To Build a Home
by Caley3324
Summary: Viktoria has been gone for six years. No one knows why she left, no one knows where she went. Now she has to decide if she wants to return to the life she left behind, or continue on the path she has chosen to take. To do this, she must decide what makes a home.
1. Can I Come Home?

**First of all, let me just say that as much as I wish I did, I did not come up with the idea of the Vampire Academy books. All of those rights belong to the wonderfully talented Richelle Mead.**

**Secondly, this idea came when I was reading through VA fanfiction and realized that there aren't very many stories about Victoria. I love her character, and I wanted to write something as a tribute to her. So, this is what I came up with.**

**Lastly, this chapter will be pretty short, as it is more of a prologue than anything. The rest of them will be around 3,000 words each.**

**Please review to let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

…**.**

**Chapter One:**

**Can I Come Home?**

…**.**

I boarded the plane with my carryon bag resting on my shoulder, its weight reminding me of what I was about to do. I didn't know if the feeling in my stomach was guilt or sadness or anger. I didn't know what the years to come would bring.

"Miss?" the flight attendant asked me in English, the language that I had gotten used to in my time in the States. "We need you to please take your seat."

Nodding dumbly, I moved along the aisle until I reached my designated seat. After stashing my bag under the seat in front of me, I buckled into the belt and tried to relax against the seat. But, as sleep had been hard to come by for me lately, I couldn't. The man that apparently had the seat next to me sat down and gave me a grin.

What did he see, I wondered? A fairly tall, well-muscled woman? A beauty with dark hair and long, curving lashes? Or could he see deeper? Could he see the circles under my eyes that I'd covered with countless amounts of makeup? Could he see the wild desperation and pain behind the brown irises?

He introduced himself as Mike, a businessman traveling for his company. He tried to engage me in conversation, but he finally got the hint that I wasn't to be trifled with and put some headphones on. I was content to simply stare out the window, watching as we passed by clouds…

"_What do you think that one is?" Stephen asked me, pointing at one of the balls of white so far above our heads._

"_I don't know," I said with a laugh. "It's just a cloud, Stephen."_

"_Wrong!" he proclaimed, sitting up so fast that I nearly went flying. When I glared at him, he could only grin. "Come on, Vika; be imaginative."_

"_They don't teach imaginative in guardian classes," I mumbled, but I stared up at the clouds anyway and squinted, trying to make pictures out of them like he did._

"_I'll tell you what I see," he said and reached out, curling an arm around my shoulders and pulling me back down so that I could beside him once more, my head resting on his chest. "That one there is a bunny. See the ears and the tiny tail?"_

_And when he pointed them out, I kind of did. "Yeah…"_

"_Your turn," he said expectantly._

_I smiled as I pointed. "That one's an ice cream cone."_

"_What kind?"_

_I laughed. "I don't see how I can determine that information. It's a _cloud_."_

"_Be imaginative!"_

"_Okay, okay!" Again, I laughed. "Chocolate chip cookie dough."_

"_Sounds delicious."_

"_Stephen?"_

"_Hmm?" He pressed a kiss against the top of my head._

_"Let's stay like this forever."_

"_Forever," he agreed and twisted his pinky with mine, sealing our promise…_

I awoke with a start when the plane landed in Russia. The flight had been nonstop, and I must have fallen asleep sometime after the meal that we'd been served. The businessman next to me gave me a parting nod before he moved down the aisle and I followed close behind, clutching my carryon close to me.

Once I'd retrieved my two suitcases from baggage claim, I began looking in the crowd, hoping that he would come through…

And, yes, there he was, striding towards me. Ibrahim Mazur hadn't changed a bit – aside from a few more age lines in his face, that is. He was just as intimidating and flashy as ever, and flanked by his two bodyguards.

"Viktoria," he said with a small smile and a lot of curiosity burning behind his eyes. "I wondered if you would, indeed, show up."

He had spoken in Russian, but I found myself having to pause for a moment to work out his words in my head. I hadn't spoken Russian often in the time that I had been away, and it was more difficult than I had thought that it would be to adjust.

"Thank you for meeting me and agreeing to take me to Baia," I told him politely, shifting my weight nervously from one foot to the other. "I owe you much."

He waved my comment away and gestured for his bodyguards to take my suitcases. "Nonsense," he said as he threw an arm over my shoulder and began escorting me to wherever his car was waiting. "My daughter is a Belikov now, anyway. What's a favor amongst family?"

My mouth fell open, and it had nothing to do with the nice car that was waiting for us. "Rose and Dimitri finally got married?!"

Abe smiled as he pulled open the car door and waved for me to slide inside. "You've been gone six years, Viktoria. A lot has changed."

I obediently slid into the car and Abe gave me a formal nod as one of his bodyguards got into the driver's seat. "Pavel will drive you to Baia."

"You're not coming?"

He shook his head. "I have some business to attend to here. But, true to my word, I did not tell your family that you were coming. He will drop you off and then make his way back. That is all that you needed, yes?"

At the thought of everything that I would have to do, I let out a long breath. "Yes. Thank you so much, Abe."

"Anything for family." With a wink, he shut the car door and pounded the roof twice with the flat of his hand. Pavel must have recognized the sign, because he immediately began to pull out of the parking garage.

I hadn't been looking forward to a conversation, so I was pleased to find that Pavel wasn't a very talkative guy. I spent most of the ride staring out the window or sleeping. When we arrived, Pavel helped me unload my suitcases and asked me if I needed anything else before he went back to Abe. I told him no, and he got into the car and drove off.

It was just getting dark when I drug the suitcases to my mother's door and knocked on it once very softly, and the second time more loudly. I then waited nervously, shifting from foot to foot, until I heard the door unlock.

It swung open to reveal my mother, who seemed to have aged quite a bit in the last six years. She wore jeans and a faded shirt, and her hair contained more gray than ever. Her hands were covered in flour and she looked beyond exhausted.

For a moment, she stood there just staring at me, until finally she blinked and whispered in Russian, "Vika? Honey, is that really you?"

"Mother," I whispered, also in Russian, as tears began to stream down my cheeks. "Mother, can I come home?"


	2. Where Have You Been?

**Thank you all so much for reading the first chapter and an extra special thank you to those of you that reviewed! I really appreciate you taking the time to do that. I also just wanted to take the time to inform you that some of these characters may be slightly OOC. **

**Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy this latest chapter!**

…**...**

**Chapter Two:**

**Where Have You Been?**

…**.**

My mother launched herself at me and gripped me so tightly that I couldn't breathe for several moments. She held me there just outside the door for several minutes, and when she finally pulled away, tears were streaming down her face just as they were streaming down mine.

"Come in, come in," she blubbered and pulled me inside, helping me to drag the suitcases in behind us. "Paul!" she called into the house. "Come and help us with these suitcases!"

A moment later, there was a thundering on the stairs and a boy jumped, landing squarely on his feet. He was my nephew, Paul, I knew, but he was much taller and broader in the shoulders, and his hair had grown out a little longer than I was used to. I remembered playing model cars with him and I barely had time to wonder if he would remember me because he had launched himself at me just as Mother had done.

"Vika!" he said happily. "I can't believe that you're home! Where in the world have you been? We missed you!"

It was with a pang that I realized that he had started school at the academy and I had missed his first day. I hadn't been there to hear him talk about his teachers and his friends. I had missed so much in the last six years…

Before I could give a noncommittal answer to Paul's question, my sister Karolina came into the room. "Mother, what's this about-"

And then she froze when she caught sight of me, her mouth falling open as she whispered something in Russian.

"Karo…" I said slowly, taking one step towards her. "It's me."

She looked like she wasn't quite sure whether she wanted to embrace me or slap me, but finally she chose the latter and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, chattering excitedly in Russian and telling me how much she had missed me. I hugged her back just as tightly, tears still falling from my eyes as I greeted the family that I hadn't seen in six years.

Soon, Sonya and Grandmother had come into the room, as well as both Karolina's and Sonya's little girls, who had grown up so much in my absence.

The predominant question was, of course: "Where have you been?!"

Instead of answering, I asked them questions of my own about their children, their activities, and their lives. Mother and Karolina set to work planning a party to celebrate my return and Zoya clambered happily into my arms, resting her head on my shoulder like she had used to. Paul was soon dispatched on errands, and Karolina and Sonya left as well, until it was just Mother, Grandmother, and me.

"Sit, sit," Mother fussed as she pulled me into the kitchen and pushed me into a chair. "You must be starving. You're so thin." Pots and pans practically went flying as she set to work cooking. One thing hadn't changed: My mother was still sure that we hadn't received enough to eat.

"You don't have to make me anything," I said, even as she set to work on my favorite foods. "I ate on the plane."

"Nonsense," she said. "So, we have much to talk about. Where have you been all this time?"

"Here, there, and everywhere," I responded.

"Speaking English," Grandmother said disdainfully in Russian. "You are home now, my granddaughter. You should speak the language of your people."

Blushing, I realized that I had indeed been speaking English. It was the language that I had gotten used to in my time away. "I'm sorry," I said. "How is everyone in Baia? What's happened while I've been gone?"

"Roza and Dimka got married," Mother said with a wide smile. "It's about time, if you ask me. They're still living at Court and guarding the queen and her husband. Karolina is still seeing that guardian, and I think that he will propose soon. Sonya is still… Sonya. And Paul has started school. Zoya will begin soon, also."

"So much," I murmured. "And how have you been, Mother?"

"I have been fine," she said, though I knew she had not. She looked exhausted, and there were new lines on her face that weren't the laugh lines I was used to. "But I do not want to talk about me." She came to the table and set a plate of food in front of me before she sat across from me. "How have _you_ been, Vika?"

Not _where_ have you been. _How_ have you been. I could answer that one. "I've been doing okay," I said. "Keeping myself busy. I have a college degree now."

She smiled brightly while Grandmother scoffed. Grandmother had never approved of straying from the typical Belikova women path, and receiving a college degree was not on the approved list of activities.

"That's great, Vika!" Mother said. "What did you study?"

"I studied Chemistry," I admitted with a small smile. "I loved the sciences in school. I worked as a chemical engineer for this medical company, working on research for cancer medications. It was… great."

"I am glad that you were happy," she said, and I could only be glad that she hadn't started yelling at me yet. She had every right to yell at me. I had left in the middle of the night without an explanation as to where I was going. I hadn't left behind a note, and I hadn't visited or called or e-mailed in the time that I had been gone. They all had every right to hate me.

Mother continued to feed me as she told me about everything that had been happening. She told me funny stories about my nieces and nephew, and about Sonya's irritability of late. She told me about Karolina and the guardian she had been dating since before I left. She told me about Rose and Dimitri's wedding, which I was very sorry to have missed. She told me that things were much the same in Baia, which didn't surprise me. It was a very small town and not a lot really tended to happen here. But I had missed that peaceful quiet.

"I know you've had a long day," Mother said after I yawned widely. "Your room is waiting for you."

My mouth fell open. "I wouldn't have thought that… I mean… I thought that you would give it to Paul or…."

Her answering smile was sad. "No one wanted to take it after…" She trailed off and I could tell that it was a struggle for her not to burst into tears. "We kept it just the same for you. You can go on up."

Nodding, I kissed both her and Grandmother good night and then walked up the stairs. At the door of my old room, I stood stoically, taking several long, deep breaths. I had to remind myself over and over that it was just my room, and there was nothing to be afraid of. Still, it took me several long minutes before I summoned the courage to turn the knob and push the door open.

The bed stood in the far corner, the comforter still black, and the pillow purple. Pictures were everywhere – pictures of me with various friends and family. All of my little knickknacks were there as well, and though it had been kept clean and free from dust, nothing had been moved. Like Mother had said, everything had been kept the same.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

With a sigh, I walked over to one of the suitcases that Paul must have brought up here for me and grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste and various other toiletries. After brushing my teeth, washing my face, and pulling my hair up into a ponytail, I walked back into my room and changed into pajama pants and a T-shirt before crawling under the covers and resting my head on the pillow.

Sleep was a long time coming.

"_You left me."_

_His voice startled me, and I spun around, taking in my surroundings. We were back in our apartment, him sitting on the couch and me standing in the center of the living room, out of place in my pajamas. He wore a smart charcoal gray suit, but his tie was loose around his neck and his dress shirt had been untucked. His blond hair was wild, like he had been gripping it all night, and his eyes were bloodshot._

"_You shouldn't be able to be here," I said, frantically looking down at my hand. I looked back up at him in confusion, because the ring was still there._

"_The charm is wearing off," he said with a sad smile. "And even if it weren't, I _made_ that charm. I could get around it if I needed to."_

"_Not while you're drunk," I pointed out, which he clearly was._

"_I may not be able to hold it long," he admitted as he unfolded his six-foot-two frame from its sitting position. "But I can hold it for another couple of minutes."_

"_And then drink more," I said._

"_Yes," he said as he took a few steps closer to me. "And then drink more."_

"_You shouldn't be here."_

"_You shouldn't be _there_." He frowned, a line appearing between his brows that – despite everything I had told myself – I desperately wanted to kiss away. "Where exactly are you, Vika?"_

"_You know I can't tell you that."_

"_Can't, or won't?" he asked and then he was there in front of me, and I thought that I would break down. He smelled the same – like his expensive cologne and aftershave. His hands felt the same when he placed them in mine. And I knew that if I leaned into him, I would be able to rediscover all of the places where our bodies fit like puzzle pieces. "Vika," his voice was a low whisper and I felt his breath against my skin._

He's not here. He's not really here. It's just a dream. A dream. A spirit dream. He's not here. He can't be here.

"_Vika," he breathed again and pulled me closer, moving one hand up to cup my face. "I need you here with me. Can't you see I'm falling apart without you?"_

_And I could see it. He was a mess. The circles under his eyes were more like bruises, and I felt like I had personally put them there. I could smell the alcohol on his breath – of a certainty, it was whiskey. He also appeared pale, as if he hadn't eaten very well in a while, which wasn't all that unusual. If I wasn't around, sometimes he would simply forget to eat and could go days on end without consuming anything. _

"_You were falling apart _with_ me," I reasoned and forced myself to take a step away from him, removing my hands from his. "Stephen, _we_ were falling apart."_

"_What do you want me to do?" His voice – normally a sweet, honeyed baritone – was infused with anger and pleading. "Vika, what can I do to make you come home?"_

_Home… I didn't feel like I had a home anymore. Our apartment in New York had been great at first. It was in Manhattan, and the cost of rent for one month could have kept my family in Baia sustained for over a year, but Stephen could afford it without a problem. We'd gone shopping for the furniture together, painted the walls, and gone out to take silly pictures of ourselves in as many places as we could think of so that we could have things to hang up on the walls. We'd shared meals, watched movies, made love… _

_But it didn't feel like home to me anymore._

"_I can't," I said, stepping backwards, shaking my head over and over again, trying to convince both of us that this was for the best. "I can't."_

_His arms came up and he gripped at the golden hair that I knew felt like silk between the fingers. As he pulled it, he asked me, "What am I supposed to do? I don't know what I'm doing here by myself, Vika. Please."_

"_You're strong," I whispered. And it was true. He was so much stronger than I was. He had much more courage and honor than I ever could. _

"_Not without you," he returned in a whisper._

"You_ made _me_ strong," I informed him with a watery smile as I blinked back tears. "Stephen, it's time you saw the strength that's there inside of you. You can do this."_

"_Vika, don't…." The world he'd created around us flashed dangerously and went black for a moment before everything came back into focus. But the colors were warped and all wrong, and parts of the room were only black holes. _

_He was too drunk to hold the spirit dream for much longer._

"_Let it go, Stephen," I said._

_He shook his head wildly, and his next words were a shout. "I won't! Vika, I need you to come home!"_

"_I can't." The tears were stinging, burning my eyes, but I wouldn't release them. "I can't do that, Stephen."_

_Again, the world around us flashed. On, off, on, off… Stephen was there, fists clenched at his sides, eyes closed, trying to force himself to stay focused and keep this all intact. But when he opened his eyes, I saw the defeat and knew that he couldn't hold it much longer._

"_Goodbye, Stephen," I whispered._

_And then he was gone._

I awoke with a start, drenched in sweat. My surroundings weren't familiar to me at first, but I soon realized that I was in my old room at my old house in Baia. I should have felt safe there, surrounded by my family, but I didn't think I'd ever felt more alone.

When my trembling began to cease, I tore the covers off of myself and swung my legs over the bed, slowly standing. After I was sure that I could bear my own weight and wasn't going to faint, I took a few tentative steps forward, heading for the door. The hallway was dark and quiet, and I was relieved that I wouldn't run into someone on my way down to the kitchen.

Once there, I set some water on to boil. Normally, I would want some warm milk with honey and vanilla and sugar to calm myself, but I could never make it just right, so I was going to have to settle for some tea. I went through the motions and soon had a steaming mug of tea, which I added a few drops of honey to.

Turning, I caught sight of a figure in the doorway and it startled me so much that I dropped the mug. Luckily, I'd been standing on a rug and the mug didn't break. The hot liquid did splash over my bare feet, though, causing me to release a stream of curses as I knelt to pick up the mug. Reaching for some napkins, I looked toward the doorway.

"Grandmother," I said in Russian. "You startled me."

She said nothing, but took a seat at the table and watched as I cleaned up the mess that I had made. Mother would have done it for me, but my grandmother wasn't one to coddle us. I finished quickly and thought about making another mug, but decided against it and instead took a seat at the table, as she obviously wanted me to do.

"How are you?" I asked her. "We didn't have much of an opportunity to talk." That wasn't necessarily true. She had been there when my mother and I had talked, but she hadn't volunteered much in way of conversation. She had simply stared at me in that strange way of hers.

"Your Russian is very rusty," she informed me, as if I didn't already know. In the six years that I had been gone, I'd only used Russian in the first one or two years. The rest of the time I had all but forgotten that I could speak it.

"I suppose it is," I said. "I wasn't around that many Russians."

"Your mother is putting together a celebration," she said, as if I didn't already know. "It will be tomorrow. She wanted to do it today, but Dimitri and Rose wanted to fly in. They should be on their way as we speak."

I glanced at the clock that said it was three in the morning and my nerves grew as I realized that I would be facing my very overprotective big brother, who would no doubt demand answers as to why I had left the way that I had. And holding information back from Dimitri could be very detrimental to my health.

"I appreciate that she is doing that," I said politely. There would be no point in trying to talk my mother out of it. "I am sure I will enjoy it."

"You will have to brush up on your language skills," she said. "As the guests will be speaking Russian."

"It is already coming back to me," I said, hurt. I was speaking Russian to her and doing very well with it, or so I thought. "I am sure I will be fine."

"It is broken," she said. "It does not flow as it should."

Blushing, I mumbled, "I'll work on it."

She stood and made to leave, but I stopped her. "Grandmother?"

"Yes?"

"You're the only one that hasn't asked where I've been."

She gave me a knowing look. "I know where you've been."

Surprised, I asked, "You do? Where?"

"Lost."


End file.
